Falling Kindom

Stories of the Past

"Has anyone seen Koi?" asked Hajime the next day, Haru and Hajime were walking down in the garden together. Hajime had invited Aoi, but Aoi had declined politely, saying his leg was still injured, but Hajime thought it had more to do with the fact that he was mourning, which was all the more reason he didn't want Aoi to be alone. But there wasn't much he could do if Aoi turned down all his invites. Arata, who had the day off, had started wandering the palace in search of Aoi, leaving Hajime wondering if they were acquainted.

"The head of the healers? Not since he went down to the city," replied Haru, trailing a hand over the roses. They stopped by the sakura tree in the center of the maze of a garden, and Hajime sat down, leaning against it.

"I wonder if he got caught up in something," muttered Hajime, searching the blue sky. A cluster of clouds in the shape of a dragon's head passed by.

                                 *

Aoi wondered why Arata had come searching for him. The first time he'd heard his voice was yesterday and yet, Aoi was sure that it was Arata who was wandering the palace halls, calling for him. Even the servants were hiding smiles as Aoi weaved around them, trying to hide from Arata.

"Are we playing hide-and seek?" called Arata, looking around the grounds as Aoi watched from the second-floor window. "I'm good at this, you know."

Aoi sighed and wondered whether everyone in the guard was this persistent.

He watched as Arata turned his back on the grounds and walked back into the palace, and Aoi took a seat on the windowsill, tugging at his new clothes. Hajime really did intend to treat him well, despite it being the first time they'd met.

"Found you," said Arata, as Aoi smiled wearily. "You're pretty fast when you want to be."

"As are you," said Aoi, scooting over so Arata could take a seat next to him on the windowsill. Arata obliged, and they watched Hajime and Haru conversing under a tree.

"Have we met before?" asked Aoi, scanning Arata's eyes for any hint of recognition.

Arata pondered the question. "Kind of." His eyes softened. "Why don't you tell me what you remember? After all, you're a noble too, aren't you?"

It was rare for civilians to come in contact with nobility, just as it was rare for nobility to come in contact with royals. People tended to keep to themselves, but Aoi had heard rumors that Hajime knew everyone in the city, but that was probably something that was blown out of proportion.

Aoi turned to face the innards of the palace as a servant who was randomly walking by offered them tea. Arata took it with a nod of thanks and Aoi followed his example.

"When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time with my family in the palace. They really did arrange a lot of parties and balls here," he said, remembering his childhood mask, which he took good care of for the masquerade balls. "I don't remember much from back then, but I did meet a lot of people. A few of them stood out. There was a boy with purple eyes and another boy with black hair, who told me he was going to be the captain of the guards and a hero someday... oh," Aoi trailed off as Arata smiled.

"We used to play in the streets after that."'

"You mean we got into a lot of trouble."

A ghost of a smile crossed Arata's face, and Aoi smiled. "It's good to see you again, Arata."

"I waited for you that day, you know." He leaned back against the windowsill. "When we promised to meet by Linda's shop. You never came."

Aoi regarded him. His voice held no accusation , but genuine curiosity; as if he knew something unavoidable had happened. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it." Aoi gave no excuse for his actions. There were some things that would usually do better to remain unknown and unsaid. Arata waited, but Aoi didn't elaborate. "We never met after that, right?"

"Because I came to the palace to become a city guard," said Arata, looking outside and tracing a hand on the window. "Now we both live in the palace."

"Wonder how heavy the price was," muttered Aoi, watching as a cloud shaped like a dragon crossed the sky. He looked down to see Hajime staring at the same cloud, melancholy on his face, as if his mind was somewhere else.

A blond-haired boy came walking down the hall, freezing up as he saw Aoi.

Aoi tilted his head. "Hello," he said as he stood up and bowed. He was pretty sure he'd seen this boy yesterday. But something was tingling at the edge of his memories, the memory of a younger version of this boy. Arata waved a hand to the boy, who waved back, his expression softening by a fraction.

"My name is Kakeru Shiwasu. I'm head of the intelligence unit," said Kakeru, his blond hair fluttering from the breeze outside.

"My name is Aoi Satsuki," said Aoi, smiling.

"You really do seem like a prince," mused Arata.

"Arata!"

Kakeru's smile was hidden in shadow, as he nodded a goodbye, his footsteps quickening with every step he took.

                                 *

After a brief talk, Hajime and Haru headed back to the palace. Heading to the second floor, they both smiled, seeing Arata and Aoi asleep just below the window, a maid throwing a blanket over the two of them. When Hajime stepped forward, she started and bowed, literally running off.

"I'm not that scary," said Hajime, watching her turn a corridor. Haru stifled a laugh behind his hand.

"You have zero self-awareness," said Haru, gently ruffling Aoi's hair. "Should we wake them up?"

"Let them sleep a little longer," said Hajime, leaning against the wall.

"Come to think of it," said Haru, walking back to Hajime and mirroring his posture. "You three met when you were younger, didn't you?"

"I know all the nobles in the city," said Hajime, without a hint of pride in his voice. "I met them briefly. I think they met up much more frequently after that." He gestured to Arata and Aoi.

"No wonder you took Aoi in. You're soft," said Haru, giving Hajime an appraising look. Hajime pushed him away as Haru laughed.

Hajime watched as Aoi stirred, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked at Hajime. Haru waved delightfully, and Aoi gave a nervous smile as he shook Arata awake.

"Let me sleep," muttered Arata.

"I'll get you strawberry milk from the kitchen if you wake up now," said Aoi, who remembered Arata's favorite drink from back then and hoped beyond hope that it hadn't changed over the years.

His worry was in vain when Arata's eyes shot open. "I'm holding you to that."

Hajime gestured to Haru, and the two of them stalked down the corridor, Hajime tossing a goodbye over his shoulder.

Hajime, in the quiet of his room, was certain the locket was now glowing a light green. And everyone knew that light green was a bad color; it was the color of witches, of magic, of loss and cruelty.

He picked up the locket, as it fell open in his palm. There was nothing inside, neither item not picture, but a chill fell across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~